Sitting at the Edge
by fowl68
Summary: The end of a world and the lingering lives in another. Mentioned past SasuNaru


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing! The lyrics are from Standing on the Edge of the Earth by Blessed Union of Souls.

**Author's Note:** It's odd. I thought I'd write more with so much time on my hands now that it's summer, but it seems I get lazier the more time I have. Don't worry though. I'll be updating everything soon. And I just got through reading the new chapter of the FMA manga and _my God_ do I hate cliffhangers!

-~-~-~-~

"_What lasts? Good looks, rarely. Money—never."_

"_And friendship?"_

"_Sometimes. I suppose I'd put it in the same category as love: flawed and messy, and of questionable duration, and yet somehow irresistible." –Al-Cerraz & Feliu__** (The Spanish Bow)**_

-~-~-~-

Twilight was setting over the barren landscape, shafts of yellow and crimson streaking through the sky before it faded into the dull night. There were no flames in this land anymore, but then, with the few survivors, there was no need to the flickering comfort of fire. Especially considering the ravaged village that was all that was left of Konohagurake.

The buildings made of stone and wood were crumbled, ruins now left to be forgotten in the sands of time. A creaking sound was all that could be heard in the too quiet world in which not even animals dared to enter. He'd been puzzled by it, had run through the village until he located the creaking's source.

They came from long-rusted chains that still hung on the deteriorating stone wall that, after a few minutes of thinking, he realized it must have once belonged to the prison. The chains, in the winds of this world, swung in their eerie squeaking way. There, on the wall, were words carved into the rock from a prisoner long since dead.

**The revelations are in the clouds**_._ Underneath that there was possibly a name, but the words were so faded with time that they were illegible.

Clouds—there weren't many clouds in the night sky this night. Rain was rare here. At least, it was now. Before, it used to rain a lot, coating the ground, and the trees, flowers, buildings; And when one got home from being caught in that rain from a mission, the warmth of a drink, blankets and a precious person curled next to you under said blankets were the best remedy for the nightmares.

But those times were long gone, never to return.

He picked up a stone, holding it and looking around aimlessly, seeing the ghosts of what used to be there. He remembered the day after this had happened, remembered them coming back and screaming out names in a frantic, desperate search for survivors. They'd crawled through the rubble until their voices were lost and hoarse. And they'd left Konoha, traveling far until they'd pushed their bodies to the point of exhaustion so that when sleep finally came, there would be no evil dreams.

The dreams came anyway.

Sighing, he threw the rock out into the ruins, not caring where it landed, There was no force, no anger behind the throw, and the rock skittered loudly across the ground. He stuffed his scarred hands into his pockets and began the long walk towards where he knew was the edge of this world that had once been the most integral part of his life.

Along the way were what used to be strong trees, but they were all fallen now, rotting and being consumed into the earth. As his eyes swept over the logs, not really seeing, his eyes caught an arrow scratched into the wood, one that he knew had been there for years. He smiled ironically, for the arrow was pointing in the very direction that was the Edge of His World.

As he continued down the long-forgotten way to the long-forgotten place, the ground beneath his feet shifted into sand. The sand was stiff from the long years and the outcroppings that formed their own forest. Most of the outcroppings were brittle, would crumble into dust if he so much as touched them. Some were already white dust in the tan sand. He forced himself to ignore the body that hadn't moved in twenty-five years so high up in the cleaner air.

Finally, the Edge of His World. The chasm was as large as ever, larger perhaps from twenty-five years of erosion. The waterfall was as thunderously majestic as it had been so many years ago. He clambered over the edge of the cliff, letting himself slide down until he reached the bottom of one of the two enormous stone guardians of this Edge. He settled down at the toe of one of the guardians, feet in the water.

_I'll be praying for whatever it's worth  
Believing that one day you'll come back to me_

The footsteps were barely there and to the rest of the mundane world that had the ridiculous notion that shinobi had never existed, the footsteps and their owner had never existed either. But he was from their World, the one that remembered the faces of shinobi as easily as they remembered what the landscape was supposed to look like.

He didn't turn, didn't make any action that suggested he even heard the footsteps, but when their owner sat, one knee curled to his chest and the other in the water, he turned and asked how he was.

_  
I'll be standing at the edge of the earth  
Hoping for someday _

The newcomer didn't reply right away, but then, he never had. He reached up and pushed a lock of black hair lightened by their years out of travel-weary eyes. "Fine." He replied, voice as hoarse as the day when they'd screamed for survivors.

The reply was a lie, but they both appreciated each other's lies now. Appreciated that their lies were all that was left of who they'd been two and a half decades ago. Neither of them were fine, possibly never be fine again.

"…How're your sons?" How it hurt to say those words. Because neither of the two twins, almost identical with the raven hair and dark eyes with light brown skin, would ever know that their father had been shinobi; that their father had had a brother too, that that brother had done the unspeakable for his little brother. "They're eleven now, right?"

"Mm." The slender, pale hand reached down to gently touch the cool water. "They're doing good. One wants to be a doctor and the other thinks that his brother's crazy for having figured out what he wants to be at eleven years old."

A chuckle, the first real one in adult company for quite a few years now. It was easy to smile at innocence. "They'll always watch after each other though. And your wife?"  
"She's good." And no, he couldn't love her quite the way that she wanted him to. Not the way both men had once loved each other. Because when she asked about his scars, he always made up a story about his childhood, never once mentioning his brother.

"You're letting your hair grow out?" The larger of the two's hand came up to finger the tips of the hair that was reaching his shoulderblades.

"...Yeah." They both knew the unspoken words—how the reason he was growing it out was to remember the brother that had died for a world of peace. How fortunate he'd been to die before he could see the tragedy that had become of them.

_  
And I know this may be  
The very last time that we see each other cry_

"You went back?" The query was nearly lost in the breeze.

The first man ran a hand through tangled blonde hair. "There's less left than when we last saw it."

"You're hurting yourself more by going to go see it."

"I know. But something was…drawing me there. Like I couldn't just leave it like we did. Without saying goodbye."

The newcomer knew how he felt, but he refused to go back to the village. The bodies of the ones closest to them had been lost in any case, or their graves were in different cities across the world. They'd all gone their separate ways because it hurt to see all the shadows and the ghosts in each other's eyes.

_  
But whatever happens know that I'll....  
I'll be standing at the edge of the earth _

The newcomer stood, looking down at the blonde that was still sitting. The blonde was outwardly serene, but from years of friendship, love and observation, he could see the heaviness of his shoulders, the tension in the lines of his face.

"You should go home to your daughter." He'd only seen her once and she was her father in color and facial features. Tanned skin, blonde hair and brilliantly blue eyes. There was no hint of her mother in the girl's features. The mother that had died in an accident and sometimes he worried for the girl's health. Not because his companion was an incapable parent, but because the blonde tended to wander and often be caught in the world of lost memories. The girl was nine now.

The blonde stood, his broad shoulders and slender physique from years of malnutrition having forever left him petite seeming even smaller in the chasm of the valley.

"You now I will." Naruto hesitated, looking into the dark eyes for the first time in years. "Will you come back here?"

Sasuke shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers, looking out into the water's currents. "Eventually."

Naruto nodded and began climbing up the cliff face, Sasuke following. As they stood on the forks of the roads that led to their respective, quiet towns where shinobi were bedtime tales and they were so much less than they had once been, Naruto told Sasuke's back, "I'll see you then."

_  
Hoping that one day you'll come back again  
I'll be standing at the edge of the earth hoping that someday  
You'll come back to me_


End file.
